


Fading Light

by Otaku_LifeForEver



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, I Don't Even Know, Other, Reader-Insert, S.Coups is very emotional, Seventeen Mafia AU, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:39:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12366927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku_LifeForEver/pseuds/Otaku_LifeForEver
Summary: "He's the devil, y/n.""Someone like you shouldn't be involved with him."No one is born evil, no one is born good. Only their surroundings shape the way they become.It all happened in a blur, yet, time seemed to slow down at the same time. He saw you, collapsed, right in front of his eyes, but he couldn't react fast enough. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, nothing. His dark mocha eyes widen as the light of his life fell at his feet."You'll get yourself killed if you hang around me, doll face."





	Fading Light

       "Seungcheol!!"

       It all happened in a blur, yet, time seemed to slow down at the same time. He saw it coming at an excruciatingly painful pace, but he couldn't react fast enough. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, nothing. His dark mocha eyes widen in fear as the light of his life collapsed at his feet.

       At that moment, Choi Seungcheol was at his breaking point.

_A coward. An idiot. A good-for-nothing._ He stood there. He waited for the bullet to pass through his body, accepting his defeat, but he never thought you would run in front of the path of the bullet. Once you did, he just stood there. He just watched as the small, but deadly, cartridge pass through your petite, elegant body. He should've saw you running towards him, positioning yourself between him and the gun, but he didn't see it coming.

Actually, no one in Seventeen saw it coming.

* * *

 

       "Okay, OKAY!!! I told you I don't owe you anymore—!" When you stormed over to the front door to cease the annoying banging, you didn't expect to see a man in his early twenties — bloodied, cut, bruised — holding onto his side, the bottom of his pale pink lips was cut and bleeding, his raven black hair and clothes soaked from the heavy rain.

       "I need a place to hide. Can I come in?" He pants. You quickly snapped out of your shock and quickly let him in. Why did you let him in? No one in their right minds would let a stranger into their home, but there was something about him that caught your eye.

       You didn't mind the wet puddles that formed with each step he took, or his blood staining the couch as he plopped down on it in pain. You quickly ran to your bathroom and came back with a first aid kit in your hand.

       "Here. Let me help." At first, he pushed you away, saying that he doesn't need any help, but obviously, you didn't listen and helped him anyways. You helped take off his black bomber jacket and treated his wounds. You could recognize many of the cuts on his body: grazes that came from bullets, bleeding stab wounds from knives, and numerous bruises forming everywhere from his cheek to his abdomen — the effect of thrown punches. What made you realize who you brought in was the small silver ring on his pinky finger. It had a flat surface with an X etched into it with the letters S V T in each space between the lines in that exact order and a small diamond made of a 1 and 7 filling in the top and final spot.

       "Seventeen." The name accidentally slipped from your lips. _Seventeen. The notorious gang that every netizens, every news channel was told to run from._

       The man in front of you freezes when you whispered that word. You stood up and walked out the room. He knew it. She was going to call the police and it would be all over for him, but to his surprise, you came back with a warm maroon blanket and handed it to him. It was soft and fluffy, the edges of the blanket filled with loose strings and fabric, worn from use. Even though the blanket may as well be antiquated, it was still one of your favorites - but that thought wasn't exactly prominent in your mind when you handed it over. Common sense swiftly informed you that he was the one that definitely needed it more.

       "You can't go out in the storm with your injuries. You can sleep here for the night." You began to walk out the room and turned off the lights after saying goodnight to your unexpected guest.

       The next morning, you found your living room deserted with zero trace that he was here. The puddles and blood (miraculously) disappeared without stains and the blanket neatly folded on the couch with a small piece of paper on top of it.

_Thanks for letting me stay the night. -S.Coups_

       You couldn't help but let out a small laugh and smiled to yourself. _S.Coups, huh?_

* * *

       You started seeing him more often after that night and eventually, and somehow became acquainted with the whole gang, however, S.Coups wasn't so favorable towards that.

       He told you multiple times to not get involved with him, saying you'll only get hurt if you become closer. He warned you that you won't be satisfied, never receive the attention, the loyalty, the love any other guy could give you, but you didn't listen.

       S.Coups told you he wasn't — and will never be — able to love, after all the lies and torture he had been through, but it was already too late. You've fallen in too deep to be saved, no matter what he or everyone else said.

       "He's the devil, y/n."

       "Out of all men, you chose him. Him. A killer. It's like I don't know you anymore."

       "Someone like you shouldn't be involved with him."

       They were right. They _all_ were.

       S.Coups was a cold-blooded, heartless murderer. The leader of the notorious Seventeen. If there was one thing he enjoyed the most about being in the gang, it would be the pleasure of seeing his victims squirm at his feet with fear as he snuff the light out from their eyes. There was that specific glint in his eyes of sadistic pleasure which he enjoyed. He loved the destruction and despair that came with him and his gang. The only people he trusted and loyal to were himself and Seventeen. Of course, that was questionable when you came along.

       You were sweet and kind. He was cold and ruthless. You brought joy and reassurance to everyone. He brought fear and misery everywhere he went. You were like a plain, delicate flower: sweet and ordinary — hell, you're probably made of 100% sugar, spice, and everything nice. But your love interest, he was like poison and thorns: not letting anyone in and can and will harm you.

       Despite his many attempts to make you see the other way, you loved him anyways. Even with his unpredictable disappearances, the fights and murder jobs he keeps getting into, and the bad publicity Seventeen gets. Why? Because he wasn't all cold-hearted and ruthless as the world thought he was.

       You knew there was still some good in him, that he wasn't completely shut off from the light. Little people knew the real S.Coups, the _real_ Seungcheol. Not even Seventeen knew about it either. You waited patiently and took time to know the real Seungcheol underneath that bloodthirsty, atrocious facade. The one aside from the gang-related acts, the one who was funny and sweet like a puppy, and just downright adorable every time he came over to her house to hide or even be there just because he wanted to be. Obviously, you didn't mind.

       After months of being around you, seeing that you cared for him, telling him that you believe there was still good in him, despite him want to say that you guys weren't compatible with each other, but he couldn't deny it any longer.

       He wanted to protect you from everything that came from being around a monster like him. He believed it was his responsibility to be your knight, your hero. He was willing to change for you. To become good so you wouldn't be ridiculed anymore for loving a killer like him.

He loved you, but he never told you.

He wanted to protect you, but he couldn't.

_A coward_. A coward who just stood there, waiting for his life to be taken away in a blink of an eye. The idiot that should've known better than to tell her he was leaving with an irritated scowl on his face after you overheard his argument with Jihoon, muttering he was going to kill a bastard. The good-for-nothing who broke his vow just like that.

_ This wasn't supposed to happen. _

       Seungcheol was becoming frantic. You were supposed to be at home. Safe and sound, waiting for him to come home, _their_ home. You would sigh in relief and embrace him like it's your last when he walked through the front door and that bright, beautiful smile would be on your face welcoming him home. The smile that made all his stress and anger disappear just like that. Now, none of it will happen ever again.

       "Y/n!!" He screamed your name as you fell backwards into his arms and on the asphalt. You were having trouble breathing as you were taking shaky, shallow breaths. Seungcheol cried out your name over and over with tears streaming down his face, the clear, salty tears fells onto your cheeks. "No, no, y/n!! Y/n, baby, stay with me!!!"

       You smiled at him weakly, despite how much pain you were in. Your eyes were soft and gentle like they always were, but Seungcheol could see the life in your eyes flickering away each second. You slowly lifted up your hand at was atop your bleeding chest and cupped you love's cheek, wiping away the tears rolling down.

       "So this is what dying feels like, huh..." Even though you were knocking on Death's Door, you still tried to keep positive. "You're a good person, Seungcheol, remember that. I love you..."

       You whispered your final parting as your fair peachy complexion paled to a color that could be compared to a sickly ghost, your breath began to shallow into nothing, and you closed your eyes with the hand on his cheek dropping down to your side.

       "Y/n? Y/n, please," He pleaded.

       Seungcheol felt his heart break and slowly ripped to shreds. For the first time, in probably an eternity, he didn't feel the joy of seeing a person dying before him. He felt sick watching the light from her eyes flickered on and off. Life or death. How could he feel that joy, when the light of his life was fading away?

_ I love you. _

       "Wake up! Please, please, wake up!!!" He sobbed as he held your dead body in his arms and buries his face into your collarbone. The scent of forget-me-not flowers and old books that always managed to calm him still lingered on your body. "Please, I don't know what I'll do without you."

       The despairing boy suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and looks up with tears still streaming down his cheeks, seeing Jeonghan giving him a sympathetic look and shaking his head in sadness. He slowly looks down at your body and lifts up his hand. The hand covered in blood.  _Your_ blood. It finally sank in.

       You were gone. The light of his life faded away and just like that, Seungcheol was plunged back into the dark.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It all happened in a blur, yet, time seemed to slow down at the same time. He saw you, collapsed, right in front of his eyes, but he couldn't react fast enough. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, nothing. His dark mocha eyes widen as the light of his life fell at his feet.
> 
> "You'll get yourself killed if you hang around me, doll face."
> 
> Wassup! So...I don't how or where I got this angsty inspiration from...  
> Should I make another chapter continuing this or nah?


End file.
